Amidst the Ashes
by TRIALHUNTER
Summary: Stories of those who fought are sung often. But those caught in middle? Those are the tales few remember. As circumstances throws one individual into the crossfire of Overwatch and Talon, he must decide on his own path, one way or another. Story will follow multiple POVs. Main story will follow shortly after events of 'Alive'. Please review and follow if you like this story.
1. Three Times Lost

**CHAPTER 1: THREE TIMES LOST**

 **Hello there, everyone. Apologies to existing users if this isn't exactly what you're looking for. I'm stuck somewhere without my PC and all my current chapters are on that computer. Sorry about that, but that's how things went. Anyway, while I still have a computer to write, I figured I'd dip my hand into Overwatch and see if I can wring something out of it for my readers.**

 **Just in case the summary doesn't do its job, the basic premise is that an OC character is forced to confront the consequences of Overwatch and Talon's war against one another. His path will cross with other characters and he must decide which path he will choose to follow.**

 **Anyway, on with the show!**

They say you remember the days when you lose someone you love. The memories that stick with you until the day you die. I'd like to meet that guy. Or gal... And punch their lights out for being so right. Because I'd rather forget everything that's happened thus far...

I remember the first time, when I was part of a family. We were a unit of five, my parents, my older sister and brother and me. I still remember the days when we would go out, get some ice-cream and enjoy the great outdoors and the sun beating down on our face. I remember laughter, giggling, jokes abound.

Then the gunfire... I saw the look of fear in my parents' eyes, the look that told me something was wrong. We weren't horribly young, but we weren't exactly that old either. I remember Dad's voice, telling us to run and never look back. My mother stuck by him, both escaping another way. When I thought back to it, I wondered why they left. Maybe they thought they could take the heat off of us. It made sense in some way... My feet felt rooted, numb to the core. I didn't want to leave them, to think about what would happen to them. But my brother, Matthew dragged me away by my shoulder and those feelings were left unresolved.

As we ran, chaos was erupting in the streets. Civilians running scared for their lives, merchants abandoning their hard earned wares and police officers trying to herd us into something resembling order. Often, the gunfire would cease all pleasantries and I saw as they were pushed aside, fear taking hold of their minds, all sense of structure lost to the wind. My ears rang with the cries of the frightened, the people too terrified to comprehend anything but their immediate survival.

Then I got separated. Some old person threw me aside in his panic and I felt Matthew's fingers slip past me. I heard him shouting back to me as the crowd carried him along, begging me to follow the sound of his voice. But I was scared. People were shoving me left and right, mounds of meat pushing against me. I didn't want to die in a stampede and I made a choice to leap to a small alley nearby, hoping to follow after my siblings when I got the chance.

Then I heard it again. Closer this time. My interest piqued despite my hesitation, I followed after the noise. That's the first time I ever saw Overwatch and Talon in action. I saw this hulking gorilla clad in white armour plating dash into the fray with that Tesla cannon of his, arcs of electricity sparking off walls and jolting several of their foot soldiers into jabbering messes on the floor, guns clattering harmlessly. I saw a Swiss woman, dressed like an angel and carried herself like one keeping behind him, her beam of healing passing through the gorilla like magic. They never noticed me, only passed me by as they fought back Talon all on their lonesome. At the time, it was awe-inspiring to me. These were heroes of legend, people dedicated to protecting the innocent from harm.

And when the dust cleared and their battle was taken elsewhere, that's when I felt my heart shatter. I saw them again as I made my move to leave. Sitting against a wall, eyes closed and hands clasped around each other. Peacefully lying there... I raced over to see them, to fool myself to believe that it was all just a dream. The sounds of battle all around me were plentiful but I tuned them out, such was my grief in that very moment.

What was I supposed to do but cry? What was I supposed to do but wail for them to wake up, for a miracle to come out of nowhere? I was desperate enough to try and find them, to put aside grief for a moment in the hopes of finding the angelic woman again, hoping stories of her attempts at revival were true. But they never came. They never came back. And I was left there to watch, for a couple of hours until I heard footsteps behind me. I felt Matthew's hand on my shoulder, though I never turned to look at his face.

And all three of us, me, Matthew and Jane fell to our knees and prayed for the spirits of our parents, for them to be taken to some magical place of betterment. Somewhere far away from what this world had become.

That day was a day of numbness to me. When we got back, there was the usual report on the attack. Overwatch fends off Talon attack in the city. Recruitment going strong! All those phrases, all those news report. I just looked at the TV with a numb expression on my face.

"Hey, you okay there, pal?" I could hear Matthew speak through the din. At the time, I ignored him, too caught up with the report to even hear what he was saying. I heard the rest of the conversation through the din of the television, enough that I could at least record it on this journal.

"Let him be, Matthew. He needs to process this. Just like we do too." My sister patted my brother on the shoulder, moving to clean the dishes after dinner.

"I know. I'm just worried, Jane. I should have been there." Matthew sounded upset, his fist clenching in barely concealed rage at himself.

"So should I. The best we can do is to be there for him." Jane gave sound advice, advice that wouldn't matter soon enough.

That... was the first time.

The second came long after that, when I had thought I had put away the memory of my parents. I worked as an accountant, keeping track of numbers all day long. It suited me, the introvert who found comfort in things that was constant, not the ever shifting idea that was mankind. My sister took some contract work, often helping with construction projects throughout the city, especially after large scale battles that would tear through the blocks, no doubt Talon's doing.

And what about my brother? Well, he always was a fighter, a person who wanted to fight the good fight. Where else would he end up? I remember visiting him one afternoon, at some small little cafe a little away from the city's Watchpoint, a fancy name for an Overwatch HQ. I couldn't go in, considering that it would make me a target for Talon. So it's why we met there to discuss our lives together.

"How you doing, baby brother?" Matthew smirked, looking at me as he sipped his cup of coffee like an old pro. I kept to my plain old glass of water. I never did like drinking much else, especially on a warm day like this.

"Good. Good. We managed to grab some new accounts yesterday. Might even get someone in the seven digit range, if we're lucky." I said with a small hint of confidence. It was as exciting as my life was at that point, certainly nothing noteworthy compared to a member of Overwatch.

"Nice. Glad to see you moving up in the world." Matthew smiled at me, chuckling. He had that way with people, of making the smallest things seem so legendary.

"What about you? Anything new in the land of the Overwatch?" I switched gears, wanting to hear more about his exciting job, in the life of a peacekeeping operative.

"Things have been pretty quiet. We managed to recover our boss' wife a week ago. They're putting me on guard duty until we can ascertain if Talon will strike again or not." Matthew told me in general. Had I known then what I knew now, I would have told him to get reassigned as soon as possible. Or just quit. Anything that would have stopped him...

"All day? Don't you get any sleep? I swear, you look like a zombie from where I'm sitting." I looked at him with deep concern.

"Used to be. Now they keep me to the night shift. It's been... hard to adjust my sleep cycle." Matthew winced a little, eye twitching as if to accentuate his point even further. My concern wavered, but I brushed it off. He was a big boy now and like it or not, Matthew knew how to take care of himself.

"I'll bet. What about... that special someone?" I jested. It was often a thing with us, with all families I would think. Pestering each other about getting married, settling down and the like... I couldn't help but revel in that for some reason.

"We're going into this now? I should ask you the same." His cheeks flushed red, looking around as if wondering if anyone was watching them.

"You try getting a date when you're handling their bank accounts. Compared to you, I'm in a really long dry spell." I joked back.

"Hahaha... You'll get there someday. But yeah, I did find someone." Those last few words were barely above a whisper in my ears, but I understood it nonetheless.

"Really? Congratulations! When do I get to meet the lucky lady?" I patted his back a little harder than usual, genuinely ecstatic about my brother's fortunes.

"Soon, I hope. She's all prepping for some top-secret flight test. All hush-hush, you know. But she's great. I know you two are going to love her." Matthew waved if off like no big deal.

"Gotcha... Well, Jane will probably be on my hide again once she hears." I sighed, imagining my sister pushing me to start finding that special someone myself.

"Don't worry. I'm sure between the two of us, we can fib quite a lie." Matthew laughed. Hard. So the rest of the day went by without warning and soon enough, Matthew saw me back to the house and bid me farewell until the next week.

That was the last day I saw Matthew alive. I had planned to see him that fateful morning, wanting to know anything I could about his mystery lover. I was all dressed, all ready to leave. Jane was also prepped and ready. She had been busy last week with work, hence why she wasn't able to join us. Now, as we were about to leave, there came a knock on the door. Jane moved to open it and of course, there stood a rather dwarven looking man, decked out as he was in metal and improvised scrap. He looked like Overwatch and that already sent warning signs all over my head. The man seemed to cast a forlorn look at the both of us, as if struggling to find the right words to say what he wanted to say.

"Greetings, lass and laddie. May I come in?" He said in a thick accent, standing at the door all polite and all.

"Sure. Of course." Jane parted to let him in. I merely gazed, my eyes trying to discern his being here at all. There were only a few scenarios where Overwatch would visit a member's family. I was praying for the good ones.

"My name's Torbjorn. I know it's a mouthful. I worked with your brother." The man opened with a joke and tried to make the conversation sound light. I remember how I hated the go-around, how he seemed to delay what was then a sinking feeling in my stomach.

"Worked?" Jane picked up on his choice of word very quickly.

"Um, no easy way to say this..." he gulped, patting his knees with his large hands.

"Then say it." Jane spoke, voice faltering slightly.

"I'm afraid to say the lad is gone." He sighed.

"Gone? You mean...?" I asked, knowing what he meant by gone.

"Aye." Torbjorn sighed, ruffling his beard as he said so. Instantly, I could feel my heart race, the room seemingly choking me. Every memory I had of Matthew came rushing back into my head, clinging to what little I had left. I looked to my sister and I saw fury. I saw veins pop in her forehead, body quivering as it tried so desperately to maintain her front. All that failed with the next few words to come out of her mouth.

"How?!" her lip quivered as she said to the dwarf-esque man.

"I can't really share the details just yet but..." he was stopped by Jane.

"My brother is dead! Spare me your classified bull and tell me!" Jane shouted, raising her voice enough to rattle some of the neighbours. I saw them peeking inside like peeping Toms, trying to discern what had gone wrong.

"Matthew tried to prevent an assassination. He was unsuccessful." He reluctantly shared. There was a deafening silence, a pause that scared me. Jane just stood there, no longer shaking and her fists uncurling to rest at her sides.

"Lass, you okay?" he asked, tone laced with concern.

"Get out." It was barely a whisper, but the message was clear.

"Pardon?" The man made the poor choice of asking for a repeat. My sister gave him a repeat, alright.

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" her scream came out like a banshee, my whole body quivering with fear. Even the usually stalwart Torbjorn was taken aback, looking at her with remorse.

And then Torbjorn was gone, nodding silently as he walked out of our house. My heart sank again for the second time in my life. My knees wobbled and my fingers curled inward in rage. Jane was in an equally upset mood, angrily stomping off without another word to her room. As I slid down to the ground, tears welling in my eyes, I heard her scream. Then crying. Then silence. It was always the silence that scared me. But I didn't dare go in. I was too tired, too upset. Nothing left for me to do but sit and feel just how much emptier the house felt.

That was the second time...

And the last... You know how this goes already.

It was about a few years later. Overwatch was disbanded officially. Rumors contradicted that fairly quickly. All around the world, people spoke of their remnants rising to become independent, to work as they did but in the shadows. Talon wasn't as much on the news as before, but there were moments when their operations spilled over. It was that day I came home to find Jane furiously packing some gear into her bag, mumbling something under her breath.

"Going somewhere? Do I need to pack as well?" I asked cheerfully, wondering if she was planning on taking a trip. I was about to grab my own bag when she replied.

"No, I'm heading off. I can't stay here, brother. I can't keep waking up and seeing their empty rooms over and over again." She said quietly, pausing only briefly before returning back to her task.

"You wouldn't let me rent it out. What else did you expect?" I joked again, hoping she wasn't being serious.

"How are you so cavalier about this? Matthew is dead! Our parents are dead! Don't you care?" she angrily rounded on me, teeth gritted against one another like a crazy person.

"I miss them too, but what can we do? We can't bring them back." I answered, seeing her still frantically packing like nothing else mattered. It was only when I saw her stuff a gun into her bag that I got the hives. As she made to leave, I stood in the doorway, blocking her from leaving.

"Don't." I pleaded.

"Get out of my way." Jane snarled under bated breath, eyes red with anger. I was afraid she was going to kill me, her own brother just to make her point. I stood firm.

"There's no point. You would be killed. Best case scenario, they throw you into jail if they caught you!"

"I won't be alone." Those words were what chilled me. I knew exactly who she meant. Talon was never shy about recruitment, now with Overwatch more or less out of the picture.

"After what they did?! Are you nuts!?" I pointed out, hoping Matthew's death would at least remind her.

"It wasn't them. It's Overwatch. It's always been Overwatch." She denied vehemently, trying to push me aside again.

"We're all that left, Jane. We need to stick together or we won't make it." I tugged at her arm, trying to get her to see reason or any amount of common sense.

"I'm doing what needs to be done. Now get out of my way." Jane snarled again, staring me down as if daring me to respond or do something to keep her there.

I don't remember why I stood aside and let her go. Maybe I believed she would come back. Maybe I thought she wouldn't follow through. Or maybe I was done fighting, done trying to do the right thing. Always I ask as I relived each moment. Could I have done something? Was I responsible? Always the answer would be same. Yes. Yes, with resounding fire. And that ate away at me.

I never saw Jane for an entire year. A whole year, I woke to an empty house. There were no more giggling, no more trips for ice-cream. The house was slightly dishevelled, having forgotten to do my usual rounds. I never stayed too long in the house, never wanting to let my mind fall to despair and pain. I had to stay strong as they would have wanted me to.

But then came a week ago...

It was a quiet night, a night like any other. The moon was high up and the streets were quiet as usual, save the odd couple or party returning from the bar. I had lost my lustre for most things in life, carrying back a warm packet of take-away noodles in my left hand. As the wind rustled, I felt someone watching me. Someone unfamiliar... As I rounded the corner, there they both were. That gorilla again. And a wiry British woman, a large device strapped to her chest. Her orange jumpsuit pants made her stand out and she seemed possessed of boundless energy. They were staring at me, looking me down like something fierce.

"Hello there, love." The British woman cheerfully intoned, looking at me with a cheerful look in her eyes.

"Wha...? What are you people doing here?" I jumped back, slightly taken aback by the fact that two Overwatch members were standing right in front of me.

"You're Matthew's brother, yes?" the gorilla spoke with a rather well versed version of English. It wouldn't shock me to think that animals could talk. Overwatch tended to attract the weirdest kind.

"I am... I was. Why?" I sputtered, painfully correcting what I had said. It was the truth I had to live with, after all.

"Talon's got an interest in you. They believe you know where our watch points are." The gorilla continued, pushing up his horn-rimmed glasses.

"Matthew told me nothing about it. So, just..." I retorted, starting to back away in case they tried something. Even then, I knew I had no chance against two well armed opponents.

"We know, hon. But we figured we owe Matt a favour." As soon as I heard her say his shortened name, it gave me pause. For as long as I knew him, Matthew never liked anyone he didn't care about to use his nickname nor did he tell it to many others, least of all his new comrades. So for her to say it? It seemed unbelievable.

"Matt? No-one uses that nickname... Unless..." I stammered. She took it as a way to intro herself.

"It's good to finally meet you. Lena Oxton. Most people call me Tracer." Lena extended her hand to me. I admit, I was... surprised at Matthew's choice. But by the way she had talked, the way she carried herself, it was clear why. They had much in common. That drive to be a hero, to be optimistic in the face of overwhelming odds. If I had to be honest, I was jealous. It must be nice, to be able to see the world in a good light.

"You were Matthew's girlfriend." I said, taking her arm to shake it. It was numbing to think, to be reminded but I was happy at least to see some remnant of him continue to live on in some way.

"We can catch up later. Right now, we need to head to your house and get..." the gorilla made to break us up, only for the crack of a rifle to break our flow of conversation. I saw the beast tumble backwards in pain, clutching his damaged armour plating with a grunt.

"Winston!" I heard Tracer scream, moving to see where the source of the gunshot came from. I looked up, seeing the assailant. It was some raven-haired woman, slender in form, her skin almost blue in colour. At the time, it never struck me to connect the dots and even today, I have a hard time believing just what Talon had put her through.

"We meet again, cherie." Widowmaker said in her French accent, her rifle trained on Winston's back, a long red bead emanating from the barrel.

"Run!" Lena told me. I didn't need another second to consider it. Dashing into the alley they had come from, I kept as far away as possible from the din of gunfire erupting behind me. As I neared what I believed to be freedom, I was stopped by a Talon mercenary, face covered in a helmet and balaclava. I only recognized who it was when they made a cute little bird with their right hand, something we had come up with as children.

"Jane?" I asked in shock, reeling a little back. I hadn't seen her in a year, so perhaps I was a little... emotional when I saw her again, even if her helmet was covering anything that would help me distinguish her from the pack.

"Brother? What are you doing here?" she asked me back.

"I could ask you the same." I shot back, wanting to hug her so badly.

"We heard they were coming after you and..." That was about as far as Jane got before a burst of blue zipped past both our heads, Jane immediately going into alert.

"Oi, get away from him!" Tracer was racing down the alley, zipping at incredible speeds to catch up. As her twin guns opened up again, Jane tossed me aside and ran, firing back at Lena with wild abandon. Hurriedly, I brushed myself off and chased after them. I didn't want them to hurt each other, especially Jane.

"Wait, no!" I called after them, dragging myself to the sound of their gunfire. As I exited the alley, I could hear another source of gunfire erupt nearby. It was Winston, who ambled after Widowmaker, bracing against her sniper fire and faltering right next to me.

"Stop! Stop!" Tracer had backtracked, leaving my sister alone. I had breathed a sigh of relief, one I felt guilty about as I stood there helpless as the French looking assassin moved with deliberate carefulness towards the prone Overwatch member.

"Au revoire, monkey." Widowmaker made to pull the trigger, until her high heel stepped right onto Winston's discarded glasses. I heard the crunch of glass and plastic under her boot, then the primal rage as the ape's eyes resounded with red fury, sending the assassin off balance.

"Arrrgghhhh!" he thumped his chest, chasing after the sniper. Feeling that the coast was clear, I dashed after Jane. Maybe I could convince her to lay down her arm, get her to come in. At least she'd be home with me...

"Trying to crash the party, love?" Tracer... I mean Lena made to fire at Widowmaker as the sniper was making her own escape. As her twin guns chattered out, the assassin grinned, leaping out of the fray. And giving her rounds clear line of sight at my sister... I don't remember entirely what I did next. All I could think of when I saw her body crumple to the floor in a flash of blue was rage, anger and above all, pain.

"NOOOOOOOOO!" I bellowed. I had rushed down to her body, unable to concentrate on anything going on around me. Time had seemingly paused as I skidded right beside her on my knee, clutching her still body... with my bare hands.

"Jane...? Jane...?!" I shook her, hoping she'd rise back up. No response.

"Please wake up... Please..." I felt tears well up in my eyes, now desperately shaking her like a madman. I heard footsteps, the crunch of large ones and the tiptoe of small ones. And I still didn't care.

"I don't want to be alone. Please... don't leave me..." I begged again.

"Jane, wake up. Please..." That was when my mind caught up, trying to scream to say she was gone. I wanted to shut it down, to kill it with fire for even making such a suggestion. But still it screamed, and still I forced myself not to listen.

"I..." Tracer looked on at me, hands covering her agape mouth as her eyes widened in horror. Winston, injured as he was lowered his broken glasses in relative shame. At least, that was what they had told me. All I remember was cradling my sister's body, begging again and again for something gone to come back. Little else stuck in my head that day. Hell, I don't remember how I got myself into my own bed. I just cried consistently, tears running down my cheeks as I sat in that house, truly and utterly alone.

That... was the last time. So many people have opinions about Overwatch and Talon in general. Some good, some bad. So many stories of hope. So many stories of despair... Few of them like mine. The ones torn apart by the madness... The ones left to face consequences they never asked for.

Maybe it was time to hang my banner up to dry, but I'm too tired to finish this. I hope whoever reads this entry understands now. There are no such things as heroes. No such things as villains. In the end, we are... just people... Frail, foolish and doomed to suffering at our own hands... Perhaps I may find peace in time. But what lies would I have to tell myself to even achieve it?

With regards,

Rennie.


	2. To Err On The Side Of A Better Tomorrow

**CHAPTER 2: TO ERR ON THE SIDE OF A BETTER TOMORROW**

 **Alright, here we are at Chapter 2. So I think I will take a more switching POV style framework for this story. In particular, this chapter will show Tracer's perspective as she attempts to console Rennie in his grief and deal with her own demons following Mondatta's assassination. This will be written more or less shortly after Chapter 1, so fingers crossed I get this out as fast as I did Chapter 1.**

It wasn't exactly what I called a cheery week. At least compared to how crazy things are right now. After Mondatta, Winston told me to keep myself rested, stay rooted. But I couldn't just sit on my bum all the time. I needed to get out, keep myself occupied. It was at least a sunny day out so at least I had that going with that.

I saw her again that day. Widowmaker. Amelie as we used to know her. She had me dead on arrival, right in her sights and she didn't kill me. I argued with Angela about it. She had to be in there. Good ol' Amelie was still kicking in there. But Angela just gave the red eye and I knew to shut my gob before I said anything more. I had forgotten that she was the one who gave the go-ahead for Amelie when they recovered her. It was why I wanted to get out and on my feet. Anything to avoid Angela coming up with some nonsense to stick a right sharp needle in me...

To be honest, it wasn't Mondatta that was getting me in the dumps, though it was still tugging at my heart a little. It was Ren. I tried to help him with Jane, I did. But he started wailing on me, beating on me chronal accelerator like a mad man. Winston had to pull him off me before he damaged it. The look on his face... I didn't know what to say. It was... difficult. I still remember Winston pulling me aside, having managed to calm Ren down enough. He took me aside, while Ren just continued to cry at Jane's feet.

"Give him time, Lena. He'll come around." Winston held onto my jacket, shielding me from him like I was some kind of monster. Back then, I was inclined to agree with him.

"I killed her, Winston. I killed Matthew's sister!" I barked, my lips quivering with regret. I was so worried that Matthew was going to haunt my dreams from now on. ' _You killed my sister?! How could you?!_ ' I imagined him saying, were he still alive and right next to me. It only just made that much worse.

"You made a mistake. We all do. It's not your fault." Winston did his best to reassure me. Even with his broken glasses, he still seemed to look at me with concern. His head turned and I knew he was more worried about my safety, rather than what was swirling in my head.

"I need to..." I made to push him aside, but he just put an arm in front of me. I could have blinked in front of him, ignored Winston's warnings. But Winston was always the smarter one when it came to things like this, so I just stood there, crossing my arms.

"No, just leave him alone, Lena. Let him grieve." Winston gently nudged me back, looking at me with great reluctance. I could tell he was conflicted in some way, at least what he thought would be best for Ren.

"I can't just leave him like this." I argued back, again trying to push my way to see Ren. Before Winston blocked me, I could see him standing over her, wiping tears from his face. His arm was still shaking, his fingers all curled like he was in a pub fight. Winston looked back at Ren as well, his large eyes saying just about as much as mine.

"I know you want to help. I do. But perhaps you should let me handle this." Winston said. I looked at Ren and I felt defeated. His eyes only knew anger to me and I started to see how my presence was just making things worse.

"Go back to the watchpoint, Lena. I'll be back soon, then we can talk about what happened." Winston turned his back on me, shuffling away. I blinked thrice to a nearby rooftop. I saw him carry Jane's body in one hand, while he placed his other arm around Ren's shoulder, leading him back to his house, no doubt. I wanted to follow, to make sure he made it back safe. But I couldn't face him. Not then...

I was at the front door of his house not a week later, scuffing my boots against themselves to keep my nerves from overloading. The only time I felt like having butterflies in my chest was my first date with Matthew. I would have loved it if the circumstances then weren't so... distressful.

"Ren! It's me, Lena!" I banged on the door. So maybe I was a little impatient about it. I didn't hear anything from his side, not even a shuffle. Perhaps he was still sleeping?

"Ren! Come on, love! Let me in." I banged on the door again. I was about to make it three times when the door finally swung open. I gulped. Ren stood right in front of me. Matthew always described him to me as someone who kept himself in tip-top form, considering it was his duty to take care of people's money. All I saw was really messy hair, not in the cool way I had mine. He was dressed in his pajamas and he looked all scruffy and such, like those poor fellows on the street.

"What...? Oh, it's you. What do you want?" Ren's mood seemed to dip when he saw me. I tried not to look too cheerful as I normally would. Matthew said that was not a good thing to do with people in pain, considering it might give them the wrong impression about me. Ren didn't seem to notice, or even care. He was just... staring at me rather passively, like a statue of sorts.

"I was just passing about and I figured I check in on ya." I said in my usual tone, my hand on the door frame. It was weird. Normally Ren would be a little bit taller than I was. But with his back hunched over a little, it seemed like I was dwarfing him instead.

"What a load of bull." Ren scoffed, seeing through my lie. I stood there rather awkwardly for a few seconds, Ren just staring me down with those deadshot eyes of his before I coughed to break the silence.

"Can I come in?" I said. Ren seemed to look back inside his house, before nodding rather reluctantly and standing aside to let me in.

Walking in, I could tell this place was... not as awesome as it used to be. The air reeked of cheap booze and stale snacks. Dishes were still in the washer, not long enough to attract flies or such but enough to start to smell a little. Even a pile of clothes stood in the living room, dust seeming to settle on the mountain of cloth. Just the place told more about Ren's last week than anything he could ever put to words.

"Well, this place is... much more different than was described." I said. Ren merely grunted in response as I sat down at the kitchen counter, clearing aside some dirty-looking plates so I could put my arms on it. His body seemingly shuffled like one of them dead looking things. Zombies, was it? I can't fully remember everything Matthew tried to get me into.

"How are you feeling?" I asked him, touch of concern hitting me voice.

"Like a pile of bricks." Ren stated matter-of-factly. If I had to guess, he was still far from happy with me. I saw him stand up and walk towards the coffee pot, cracking his neck back and forth. I saw an opportunity to at least be helpful in some way to Ren. So I got off my own arse and went to help him.

"Here, let me help with that. I'll have it ready in a jiffy." I said, my hand already moving to grab the pot from him. Ren resisted me a little.

"No, I got it." Ren gently said, shaking his head gently at my request. Had I known what he was actually asking for, maybe I wouldn't have been so gung ho about the whole thing.

"Come on, Ren..." I insisted, trying to get the pot from him. Ren spun on me, hand gripping the handle of the pot even tighter, yanking it further away from my grasp. That seemed to tick him off, because his arm shot back with the pot, forcibly moving as far away from my gloved hands.

"I SAID I GOT IT! Okay?!" he screamed out at the top of his lungs, lips quivering as it left his mouth. I instantly blinked away, hands raised up high as he watched me bitterly. Sighing, his temper seemed to subside and his shoulders sagged as he poured out the coffee into a small mug.

"How do you like your coffee?" he asked me, carefully setting that piping hot mug of his on the table.

"With milk. If you have it, love." I said. There was an explicit groan from Ren, but he never said anything snarky to that effect. Lad just went to go grab the milk from the fridge and pour it in into my mug. He handed me the piping hot mug, which I gratefully accepted and sat right opposite me. There was that silence again, both of us just holding our mugs and sipping its contents from time to time.

"So..." I began, rubbing my hair a little as I set the mug back down on the table, stream of steam still bubbling from the top.

"So...?" he followed after me, eyes looking up from his mug. I could see the red in his eyes, veins popping at the sides just barely cognizant as they looked at me. I was... horrified to say the least. Perhaps I had misjudged the depth of his grief?

"I hear the funeral's tomorrow." I asked. His eyes drooped down, averting its sight from mine.

"Where's it being held?" I followed up rather awkwardly.

"Old Narrows. Edge of town. Same place we buried the rest of the family." He said in a rather flaccid tone. It seemed like a foregone conclusion to him, like it was an inevitability of his lifetime. Matthew always talked of him as someone who did his best to see the lighter side of things as much as possible. Was he wrong? I tried to imagine what Ren would have been like if none of this bad things happened. It took a moment before I stopped trying to live in what could be and try living in what was.

"Oh... I've been there! It's a nice place." I said without thinking, again closing my flapping mouth when I saw Ren look away in visible pain. ' _There you go again, Lena. Always talking before you think!_ ' I told myself.

"Sorry." I said in a low tone, looking down myself in shame at my half-full mug of coffee.

"Why are you here, Tracer?" Ren suddenly interrupted my train of thought, looking back up at me.

"You don't have to call me that, Ren. Call me Lena." I said reassuringly.

"Why are you here, _Tracer_?" He made it a point to say my codename as he repeated the question. I knew better than to say otherwise at this point.

"I was hoping you wouldn't mind if I popped in for your sister's funeral. I'm sure I can..." I began to speak, but Ren beat me to the punch.

"Do whatever you want. I don't care." Ren murmured, burying his mouth in his cup afterwards. His voice seemed so distant, lost in some way. His extreme depression was worrying, to say the least.

"Anything else?" he asked. I shook my head affirmatively. I had planned to just sit there and keep an eye on him. It looked like he was begging for someone to help him, to notice him in his time of pain.

"Good, then you can get out of my house." Ren had shuffled out of his chair, making for the front door.

"Ren, you look like you could..." I argued, Ren swiftly opening the door with a loud creak. His lip quivered with pain, almost biting it off like a bloody chip. His grip on the handle tightened and it made me worry.

"Please just go. Don't make me have to kick you out." Ren said those last few words in an angry quiver. His head hung low, unable to bear even looking at me. It broke my heart a little, seeing him so quickly reject my support. But it wasn't my house and I had no control over his life. Before I left, I set down a small little beacon Winston had given me in case of emergencies on the table, right next to my still unfinished cup of coffee.

"If you ever need us... The cavalry will be on its way." I said, exiting the house and hearing the door slowly close behind me. It was numbing to walk away, to give up. But what could I do then? My mind raced back to before, to before I had to wear this little thing on my chest.

It was the morning of my test flight. The day of Lena Oxten, ace pilot and tester of the Slipstream. I practically giggled as I made my way downstairs from our cozy little home away from home. I remember Matthew being in the kitchen, feet crossed on the table as he read a book. We had decided to share a small apartment together, just to not have Winston or anyone else coming in whenever we wanted to have a snog.

"Hey, you." I smirked, tiptoeing towards him with a smile. He didn't turn around to acknowledge me, though his body seemed to shift a little when he heard me.

"You're up early." He said, eyebrows raising up in surprise. I shook my head to myself. So I usually slept in. Girl's gotta keep her energy up for the day after all!

"It's the day of the flight! Of course I'm all fired up!" I whooped, jumping up in my usual glee, hands up in the air. He laughed of course. It was what drew us together, his sensibility tempered my cheeriness and in turn, I kept him in high spirits. I wouldn't say like some American cheerleader, but Matthew always seems to find some joy in reminding me of the similarities.

"Glad to hear it, Lena." He said, setting his book down on our coffee table. His brows seemed to furrow and that already told me that he was worried about my safety already.

"Come on, love. I won't be long. Just a week to test out the Slipstream and I'll be back in a jiffy!" I told him, seeing his worried face look back at me.

"Yeah... Yeah, I know. I just worry, you know." He said to me, taking in a deep breath as he leaned his body back into the couch. It was cute when he worried so much, it was even fun just to tease him about it.

"Awww, you're cute when you're blushing." I poked his left cheek with a smirk, seeing that blush of red flow into both of his cheeks.

"You barely noticed it!" Matthew playfully looked aghast at me, seemingly shocked by my taunt as if it struck a chord with him. Perhaps someone would say otherwise, but then they didn't spend a few months with him working together. Who would have thought I'd date the first guy to welcome me into Overwatch? I certainly didn't think it'd be the case back then either.

"You were red as a beet! Don't lie!" I giggled, tickling the poor lad like mad. I don't remember much of the next few minutes, just that we somehow ended up laughing on the floor, rolling around like cute little puppies.

"So, when am I going to meet your family?" I asked, looking at him lovingly as we laid there on the floor, chests rising up and down with each breath.

"Soon. You'll love them. Especially Jane. My sister will spoil you silly when she gets a load of you." His hands started making motions in the air, trying to put images with his descriptions. I laughed more than I listened, hearing him describe Jane to me. She sounded like a sweet gal and a new friend was right up my alley.

"Hahaha!"

"And my brother too... It'll be nice for him to see someone other than snooty clients all the time." Matthew continued to describe his family to me in great detail.

"That includes you, love?" I joked, which he seemed to take in stride. Then his face went serious again. I knew not to joke when he adopted that. Angela taught me as much when it came to people.

"Hey, Lena? If something happens to me, could you do me a solid?" he asked, sounding like he was about to fall ill or something at that very moment.

"Uh-oh... Are you... sick or something, love?" I asked, visibly concerned. Matthew quickly understood what I meant, his hands flailing back and forth in my face to indicate otherwise.

"No! God, no! I just... I just worry about Ren. And Jane too... I was just wondering if you could look after them for me. If I'm not around?"

"Awww... Of course, love. Don't worry about it." I made a face, then shrugged my shoulders and agreed readily.

"Good. I can breathe a little easy." Matthew snuck his arm under my back, snuggling up next to me like a little baby. As I sat there stroking his hair, my mind wandered to the idea of meeting them for the first time. Would it be awkward? Would we hit it off? I didn't really know then. And I still wonder what it would have been like, under very... different circumstances.

It was painful to think about Matthew that way. I was... stuck up in the hospital when I got the news. All I can remember was Winston letting me bawl into his arms, that big tuft of hair of his getting all wet and all. I couldn't imagine what Ren went through. Or Jane for that matter... But I failed her. I failed to keep my promise to Matthew. And my shoulders sank like rocks as I walked back to the watch point.

It was the next afternoon that I saw Ren again. He looked miserable as cor, eyes as red as blood and his hair all yucky and such. His suit barely looked clean, something I'm sure Angela would have taken him to task for. I didn't see anyone else around, which shocked me a little. Did they not have anyone to care for them? Had people really forgotten about them? I had done my best to get them to come. Some, like Winston and Angela said they would love to if they could, but didn't want to risk being seen grouping up all at once. Others, like old pouty face McCree hadn't as much sympathy for Talon soldiers as he did for Matthew. It was trying not to punch his face in, though Reinhardt seemed up for the task as I walked out earlier.

"Hi there, love." I said, stepping over towards the grave. I don't know how Ren got the dosh to pay for the funeral. It was a lovely little thing, the gravestone and a fresh patch of dirt covering what I presumed was her coffin.

"Hey, Lena." He said, with a rather latent sigh in his throat. His eyes never looked at me, only at the tombstone.

"She looks lovely. Like she's at peace." I said with a cough, looking down at the patch of dirt. Perhaps it wasn't exactly the right words to say, but I figured that imagining her at peace was more than enough.

"Yeah... Peace with bullets in her back." He said, the comment clearly directed at me. I spun around, looking deeply hurt at his lingering hatred.

"I said I was sorry." I said with a short stutter at the end, my eyes watering a little beneath my aviator goggles.

"It doesn't change the fact that she's dead, Tracer... Where's everyone else?" Ren sighed, rubbing his temple with his hands, eyes searching for anyone else, perhaps expecting them to be hiding behind some tree. ' _There was that again..._ ' I noted his use of my nickname, rather than my actual name.

"It's just me, love. They would have loved to come but..." I attempted to explain, but Ren cut me off with his own words.

"So they don't care." Ren said with a sad intone. I quickly shook my head in response, placing a hand on his shivering shoulder.

"Ren, that's not true. They do care. But we can't make ourselves a big target by being all in one place." I told him plainly.

"Did you mean that? Or did Winston feed you that drivel!?" Ren angrily contradicted, spinning his back to me with a tremble in his body. He was right angry at me again.

"Ren, come on..." I put one hand on his shoulder, sighing with a resigned tone in my voice. I had to say something. No letting someone do all the hard work.

"I know I'm... not your most favourite person right now. And I wish I could put your mind at ease..." Rennie seemed to look forlornly at the ground below his feet as I said this. "But I'll make this right. Somehow..." I trailed off, unable to give anything more than that vague promise. Truth be told, I was scared of failing him as well. It was bad enough that I felt guilty, that I couldn't do anything to stave off his pain. It would be worse if I just gave up. An Oxton never gave up, that's what mom used to say when I was young.

"Why? Why... did it have to be my family? What have we... done to deserve... this?" Ren started to break down and cry again. I rushed over to him as he fell to his knees in front of Jane's grave, hands openly clutched around his face as his cries echoed in the graveyard. I had to bend down to hold onto him properly, letting his head rest against my left shoulder as I gently patted his back, something I had picked up after months in the med bay with Angela.

"It's okay, Ren. It's okay. I'm here..." As I cradled Ren in my arms, hearing him cry into my jacket, I looked down at the gravestone in front of me. Perhaps I had failed Matthew in some way. Perhaps I was unable to save Jane. But I remembered what my promise was. Ren was still here, still trying to keep his wits about him. And Matthew would have wanted to keep an eye on his baby brother. I meant those words I said to him. I had to.

Tracer out...


	3. Venomous Deals

**CHAPTER 3: VENOMOUS DEALS**

 **So here we are at Chapter 3! Yay! So, if you couldn't tell by the title, the POV for this particular chapter will be on Widowmaker, as she's ordered to send a message to the grieving individual to sway him to their side as she subsequently processes her suppressed memories, far away from the influence of Talon. Hope you guys enjoy the show!**

It was a trifling loss, to be certain. A week of failed missions, one brief glimpse of accomplishment and then more failure... It made me shake my head in disbelief as I watched Reyes stumble back and forth in his gothic mess he calls clothing, no doubt thinking of my performance thus far.

And it was always that damned little girl. Tracer. Oh, how her name made my blood boil, a feeling I was not too familiar with. I heard talk of rivalries, of people sworn to battle to the death. Was this how I felt? How I saw this foolish little child playing with baby toys? I snapped out of it, hearing Reyes speak again. He may prefer to be called Reaper, but those who knew him had earned his respect the hard way. I dared not imagine what happens to those who lose it...

"An unfortunate loss, I must say. Not up to your usual standards, Widowmaker?" He pointedly remarked, looking at me with a glare behind his bone mask.

"We were outnumbered, mon Cherie. Vous morceau de..." I cursed in my native tongue, looking back at him spitefully. I do not understand why Talon agreed to this simpleton's plea to bring her brother to us. I had heard very little before about this... Jane, but word spoke of an operative who rose rather quickly through our ranks. As quick as me, so they say...

"Do not snipe with me. Remember your place." Reyes snarled at me, daring me to bite back and give him an excuse. I simply stared, letting my hands wash over my rifle, polishing its edges. A good assassin knows to always keep her tools in the best of shape, one that Reyes was clearly lacking of, considering his tendencies to toss his wasted firearms aside.

"In any case, Talon has asked that we monitor the situation. Perhaps we can yet turn this screw-up into something beneficial." Reyes continued to speak. I continued to follow along, tucking my rifle onto my back.

"As they wish..." I stood up from the box I was sitting on, following him through our little outpost. Like Overwatch, we kept to the shadows whenever possible, hiding in places that few dare to enter. Unlike Overwatch however, we don't have the police breathing down our necks like they do now.

"If he makes you, play to his sympathies. Fabricate something that isn't there." Reyes explained further, disgusting me just a bit more. It wasn't like him to suggest such... quiet ways for our operations. What had gotten into him?

"Pardon? Must I pretend to be associated with... her?" I looked condescendingly at Reyes, aghast at the very notion he intended. Act as if that pathetic little recruit and I were... ahem... what do the little girls say these days? Best friends forever? Aggh... Makes me want to gag...

"Use our fallen operative. Give him a reason to side with us." Reyes seemed to have ignored my last few words. If anything, his form seemed to shift into black clouds, as if he was trying to suppress his anger. I understood his rage at me, but now it felt unnervingly disturbing. Emotions? All I knew as I shook my head was to bite it down, bury it like that girl was. Like that British fool would soon be...

"I must babysit that petit garçon?" I asked again. Reyes just snapped back at me with a frown on his face.

"You have your orders."

It was near midnight a little after his little funeral for our operative that I found myself perched on a rooftop overlooking his street. I had been there for a good hour, having heard that he would be visiting the Overwatch watchtower in his area. While following him would have been sound, Talon did not wish to risk me for fear of being detected by their surveillance and losing the element of surprise. But he surprised me when he came not alone, but with one of the Shimada boys, Genji.

"You really don't need to escort me. I can handle myself fine." Rennie said, my visor picking up on his conversation as he neared the start of his street. I watched their bodies shift slowly as they continued to speak.

"Ms. Oxton would prefer you reach home safely." Genji seemed to motion towards Rennie as he talked, the sword on his back glowing with a vibrant green. I do not consider myself a person who believes in magic, but I will not deny what the Shimadas have brought to the table. Hanzo's apt demonstration was proof enough of their family's... worth.

"Genji, right? There must be other better things to do than walk with a civilian?" Rennie asked him, trying to shake him loose. He was unwittingly playing into my strategy. All the more easier if I could corner him alone.

"We protect the innocent. Consider this an extension of that belief." Genji motioned again. I watched with a steady thump, dull as it was in my chest. Was he wary? Did he know I was there? I couldn't tell...

"Well, you can stop now. We're here." Rennie stopped just outside his house, shaking the ninja's hand for good measure.

"Stay safe, Rennie-san." With that, the ninja left. I breathed a sigh of relief. Despite his previous attitude as a playboy, Talon was right to fear him in his current iteration, especially considering his new ties with Overwatch. I had worried about blowing my cover, but the moment passed without incident so I chose to roll along for the moment, sneaking into his house so that I could offer Talon's terms in person.

"It's so quiet in here. Almost peaceful..." I heard him whisper in the dining room as I snuck in through an open window in his bedroom. Instantly, I felt a foul odour hit my nose, putrid smell suffocating me. Clearly this buffoon lacked manners and common decency. Quickly, I had left said smelly confines and moved to take a seat at the opposite end of the table, thankfully left deep in the dark due to his faulty lighting.

"Bonjour, mon Cherie." I spoke from the shadows, rifle trained at his dumb face. I saw the man stumble back in his chair, almost toppling backwards in surprise. He grabbed ahold of the table to keep his balance, looking at me with wide eyes as his head shifted, no doubt attempting to pinpoint if I had brought in backup. It was... certainly respectful, yet insulting at the same time. It was then I realized he was trying to reach for a weapon, a sharp knife in front of him catching my eye.

"Stay your hand. I did not come to mess up your pretty little face, mon Cherie." I tsked, sending a warning shot at the knife just to show I meant business.

"You're that sniper. From the alleys..." he pointed at me rudely. ' _Ah, nice to see that he's not as brainless as his sister..._ ' I remembered thinking.

"I do not come from such lines of poverty, but whatever helps you remember me." I curtly replied. He looked unconvinced of my intent, but I didn't care. I was assigned to garner his trust, one way or another. If he remained unconvinced with my... charms, then there were other ways to earn his loyalty.

"What do you want?" He said, plain and simple. I smirked, lowering the rifle in my hands just a little. Not enough that he could gain an advantage, but enough to hopefully convince him of my intent. He seemed to lose that tension in his hands, arms no longer knuckled with white.

"I've come to extend my sympathies for your loss. Jane was... certainly devoted to our organization. And it was certainly... trying for many of us." I pouted my lips, looking downwards for the guise. Surprisingly, his next words came with a softer tone to them. The fool had actually believed my amateurish attempts at emotions. What a moron!

"You knew her?" he asked, eyes looking into the dark void where I resided. By now, he could tell where I was. But he knew as well as I did that he had no sway in this situation, not with a high powered sniper rifle staring down the space between his eyes.

"We were friends. Ones who looked after each other when we needed it..." I vaguely noted, not knowing what else to add. I... had figured adding details would only prompt more questions from the grief-stricken buffoon, so it worked out in the end.

"If you were such a good friend, why weren't you at the funeral?" the man, I mean... Rennie retorted, that anger starting to bubble back to the surface.

"I prefer a... distance for such activities. Besides, I couldn't simply walk there. Not with your friend Tracer nearby." I paused, seeing the boy torn with my words. I just had to sweeten it a little more. "It was a lovely ceremony, mon Cherie. A shame that Overwatch chose to ignore such a light in this world of ours..." It was pilling on words of such sickening emotion that I nearly gagged at the thought. But I kept my composure. His only crumbled even more.

"Let's say I buy your story. What then?" Rennie answered, on the verge of tears, hands gripping tightly on the edge of the table. I almost wondered if I would hear the wood snap between his fingers. People and their emotions... They were so utterly predictable.

"I was assigned to offer you an opportunity. A way to strike back against those that took so much from you. From us... Think about it. You could avenge your family, rid the world of their..." I had planned to rattle off the spiel given to me by Talon, play to how Tracer had slaughtered... what's her name in cold blood, all that fun stuff. But Rennie just banged his fist on the table and I went silent, merely from understanding his turn to speak and not because I was taken aback. I... was much better than that, I assure you...

"Stop..." the boy spoke, lip quivering and his hands shaking with some amount of fury. I was concerned. The boy may be my mission, but I wouldn't hesitate to cut my losses if he proved too unstable. My life is worth more than some petty orders.

"You know, the funny thing is... Had you made that same deal a few days ago, I would have been more willing to accept your deal. Now..." Rennie shuffled out of his seat. My finger twitched just a little around the trigger, wondering if he was going to try and rush me. But no, he strode over towards the window, opening the windows to let the moonlight hit his face. I saw the tears start to rush down his cheeks as he stared unblinkingly outside. My first thought: Was it a trap? Had I been foolish in coming here, only to be dragged away by Overwatch? I heard nothing and I waited for something. He spoke again.

"Now I'm just tired. And sick of it all. It never ends, does it?" He asked rhetorically. I made no response, Rennie picking up again not long after me.

"The ones in between don't matter, nor will they ever matter. No one remembers the ones who died simply. Just the famous... and the infamous..." He looked at me, his eyes now looking a little more haggard. The bags underneath his eyes accentuated just how tired he looked, how... done he was with the whole affair. I just wanted to know if it was resignation to joining our cause or resignation to possible suicide at my hands? I only prayed it was the former. The latter would make me less than favourable with Talon.

"Is that a no? I admire your little speech, but I did not hear an explicit rejection." I quickly brought the subject back on track. He didn't answer, only staring at me like a gormless buffoon with no intelligence.

"All we ask of you is your information on the Overwatch watchtowers. Tangible info, if I must clarify." I said, crossing my arms across one another as I rested them on the wooden table.

"I'll think about it." His lip quivered. It was enough. Smiling, I retracted the rifle and slung it on my back, Rennie watching me with relative disinterest.

"Au revoire, Mr. Rennie." And with that, I had left the man to his own demons, deciding to take a moonlight stroll through the streets. I was free. Overwatch wasn't. I never looked back to see if he would follow. Had he done so, Talon would kill him as he would have become too much of a liability to turn into a profitable asset.

I laid in my bed that night, his words ringing in my ears. It seemed personal to him, but I felt some connection, some strand still connecting me to the past they had told me was unimportant. And as I slept and drifted away into sweet sleep, I remembered the night I had taken my first life.

I remember the blood. The stains on the soft white blanket they had brought in for us. I had led my target, my 'beloved' into our bedroom. I had allowed things to progress far enough. It was intoxicating to see his face, the moment of truth as he watched me plunge the dagger into his chest repeatedly, over and over again. I smiled the whole time, rapturously enjoying the blood splattering over the nice dress I had on for the dinner banquet earlier. So caught up was I in my spree that I did not notice a young man in the doorway, staring me down with an assault rifle.

"Hey! Get away from him!" he shouted with a firm nod in his tone. When I turned my head to look at him, that was when he faltered.

"Ms. Lacroix? What...? What are you doing?" The young fool called out. I looked at him curiously. Who had he been calling? There was only me, him and my target, still staring at me with delightful horror. In my frenzy, I had forgotten the name they had asked to feign recalling. It was only after did I recall enough to write it down for their report.

I had leapt off the bed, the bloody dagger still clinging in my soaked hand. I advanced closer and closer, the young man looking at me fearfully. He could have shot me, killed me without a word. Yet, the name I had taken seemed to hold weight. He was certainly conflicted, a price I soon made him pay...

"Halt! Stop! Put down your... Hrrrgghh!" He never finished, for I was fast on him and plunging the dagger into his chest. I heard the gun rattle away, his last of defense lost as his feeble body attempted to flail his arms at me in some sad attempt to prolong the inevitable. With each strike, his strength waned till the blood curdled at his mouth, dripping out and staining those perfect white teeth with luscious red. Feebly, he spent his last effort to speak. And it was not a cry for help...

"Why...?" he croaked out his last words, eyes rolling back as the life left him. I chuckled. That was what he chose to say. That pathetic nature of curiosity? I felt jubilant. Perhaps I was cut out for this life after all. I tapped the earbud in my ear, smiling as I spoke to the man on the other line.

"It is done." I curtly responded, resisting the urge to savour the kill for too long. It would do no good if I acted too damaged to my employers.

"Excellent, Widowmaker. Report back immediately. Our higher-ups are most interested in your progress." I heard the other voice on the line reply with an earnestness to his delivery. Clicking it off, I recall walking away with a smile, never once doubting my choice.

And yet... I awoke from that dream with a heavy chest, panting as I felt beads of sweat drip down my forehead. I couldn't sleep, couldn't do anything but put word to page. It must have been that damnable boy, with his talk of foolishness. What was wrong with me? This level of... pathetic emotion was unnatural... and disturbing. Relax, Widowmaker... Relax... One day, I will have my chance. And I will ensure that this will not happen again.

When I awoke the next day, it was to a call to arms. Grudgingly, I had hastily pulled up my bodysuit and snatched my rifle out of the closet, following the crowd to see what was happening. Eventually, I made a detour to the main security station, seeing Reyes discuss plans with one of subordinates. Seeing me, he shooed his compatriot away, leaving us to discuss our plans moving forward.

"What has happened?" I asked, my voice still riddled with the groggy tone that comes with being awoken at a very early hour and not enough rest. Reyes spun in his little chair to look at me, brow raised as he looked at my scruffy hair. I always prided myself on keeping my hair as magnifique as possible, so certainly it looked out of place. I gave him a glare, hurriedly stroking my fingers through them to straighten out as much as I could.

"We've traced the boy. He's on his way to meet with Overwatch now." Reyes said point-blank. _'So soon? It was certainly quick, considering I had only offered the deal 12 or more hours ago._ ' I found myself thinking.

"How could you tell, Reyes?" I asked curiously, wondering what would possibly lead to such an assumption.

"The boy has no other connections to his life. Where else could he possibly go?" Reyes threw his hands in the air, his shoulders shrugging. I was really incensed now. _'A hunch?! Is he trying to be the bane of my existence?_ ' I fumed, keeping as calm a demeanour as I normally allowed.

"Do not underestimate your foe, Reyes. It'll be the death of you." I coldly retorted, to which he did not take lightly, to put it mildly.

"Bold words... coming from a failure herself." Reyes pointedly remarked, looking at me with a flare in his eyes as the words left his lips.

"Be grateful the worms do not like you, Reyes. I hear they feast heartily on the dead. Even the ones trying to walk like they belong..." Before Reyes could get a chance, I shook my head at him with disgust before walking out to chase after the boy myself. Now's my chance... To finish what they had started...

 **Shorter than usual, but I didn't want to write extraneous fluff to make it bigger. Seeing as it's shorter than usual, this chapter will be released with the fourth so that you guys will not be left wanting. Thank you so much for your support thus far and enjoy the rest of the year!**


	4. The Ones Who Do Die

**CHAPTER 4: THE ONES WHO DO DIE**

 **On to chapter number four! How exciting! Picking up from where we last left off, we'll now explore Soldier 76's (Jack Morrison for those more steeped in Overwatch lore) perspective as Rennie visits the watchtower, his interactions with Mercy and his attempts to assuage his guilt in playing part in Rennie's situation. Enjoy!**

Some would call me an old hand. A sentimental doddering man still stuck in the ways things used to run. They'd be wrong in some ways. For one, I knew not to coddle, not to put stock in belief too often. Sometimes actions speak louder than words, a lesson I learned the hard way.

I had rejoined Overwatch under a new guise. It would do no good for the new Overwatch to be reminded of the past, to be led by someone who had failed them before. That was how Soldier 76 was born, from the ashes of the man once known as Jack Morrison. Besides, Winston seemed to take to leadership relatively well and I wasn't about to argue with a big guy like him. One day, a little after Mondatta, I was just sitting with Winston in the security room, watching the cameras with a bored look on my face. I hadn't seen anything worth noting for a week or so. No Talon, no call for help. Nothing. Then, I saw Winston sit up in his chair, pushing up his horn-rimmed glasses at something. I saw it soon after, a single kid walking right into view and holding an emergency beacon of ours in his hand.

I looked to Winston for an explanation. He just looked at the screen with surprise. Who was this guy? What was he doing holding one of our beacons? Footsteps echoed outside from the hall behind the door and I heard someone walk in. I was too busy to notice who it was.

"Someone's approaching. Could be Talon..." I said to Winston, only noticing that our new occupant was Lena, considering that no-one wore aviator gloves all the time. She took her own look at the screen and quickly answered my concerns.

"It's Ren. It's okay. He's Matt's brother." Now there was a name I hadn't heard in a long time. Matthew. I still remember that kid. All fresh-faced and bright-eyed... Optimistic to a fault. Poor kid didn't deserve what happened to him. Though I heard his family took the news... rather poorly. I was merely concerned that he had followed in his sister's footsteps. Much as I felt sorry for the kid and what he was going through, I wasn't ready to risk our team for his sake.

"What's he doing?" I asked, seeing him shift his body in a rough circle, his neck craning up and down like an idiot. If he was a spy, he was doing a damn terrible job of it.

"Looks like he's... looking for us..."

"That's out of the ordinary. I thought he didn't want nothing to do with us."

"Come on, luv! He wouldn't hurt us! I'll go get him..." Lena just shrugged off our concerns, that happy demeanour still riding high in her head. She seemed to skip by leaps and bounds to the door, convinced of the lack of a threat here.

"Tracer, be careful. We don't know if... he's legit." I trailed off, Lena having already left the room before I could finish my sentence. I sighed heavily, something Winston was quick to pick up on.

"Do not fret, 76. She has a good heart." Winston chuckled, leaning back in his reclining chair as he watched a blur of blue shift on the camera and come to a halt right next to Rennie.

"Good hearts don't mean anything when you're fighting a war, Winston." I retorted, crossing my arms as I stared at him disbelievingly. Despite his wisdom, he could show some serious sense of naiveté that few rarely saw.

"Maybe... But we'd be no better than Talon otherwise." Winston gave his two cents on the matter. I would have argued with him that Talon does not play by the rules and we shouldn't be so gung-ho about following them all the time, but I knew better than to get into a bickering war with the guy. We'd be here for days and I would probably be bored out of my skull.

"Hmmph..." I grunted, walking away from the room as I tried to take in our new situation. Winston nodded in my general direction as I left, plucking out a banana and a jar of peanut butter from out of seemingly nowhere as he watched the monitors again.

I usually walked around the base, take in the old sights and see what's changed in the years since I was gone. But that soon left me after the first week or so. There was only so many times I could bear to look at old peeling paint and reminiscence about the good ol' days. It was why I decided to go visit the doc today, hoping to get some chatter that wasn't about hiding any secrets.

I knew Mercy or Angela Ziegler to those who know her best would make me the second I walked back into the arms of Overwatch. What I hadn't expected was her amenability to keep my secret during the mandatory preliminary check-up. Doctor-patient confidentiality, she told me. We had a good laugh about that one for a week. When I entered her lab, she was hunched over her desk, working on her staff with a hum in her throat.

"Angela." I said dryly, looking at her as I took a seat in one of the chairs she kept in her lab.

"Jack." She replied back, not taking her eyes off her staff.

"You hear about the kid?" I remarked, crossing my arms as I leaned into the chair comfortably, staring at the back of Angela's form. She shifted only briefly, spinning around to look at me as we continued our conversation.

"Rennie? Yes, Winston wanted to take a look at him before we talked to him. He should be in any minute now." Angela said, looking at the door I had just came through. She then looked up at the clock, seeing the handle spin rather lazily with each second that passed.

"Don't say a word about me." I added, even if I knew she wouldn't be so forgetful. Angela for her credit motioned with her fingers on her mouth, zipping up her lips so to speak.

"My lips are sealed, Jack. Though I wish you would cease keeping yourself from the others. They need you, especially at a time like this." She looked at me now with that telling look. I shirked away, unable to even fathom coming back. I had failed to keep Reyes from destroying us from within. I failed to stop Talon from enacting several of their plans. I failed to keep Overwatch and by extension my family safe. It weighed on me like a burden, a burden I did not wish to pick up again.

"I failed them. They need a soldier, not a figurehead." I expressed my concerns aloud, looking a little downcast as the thoughts continued to race through my head.

"That's not true, Jack. You inspire them, drive them to do better. Goodness knows you've done that before." Angela shook her head, doing her best to shake me out of my rut. Her words were certainly encouraging and I feel a little better, thinking back to it. But Reyes still shadowed my mind and I made such things clear for Angela.

"Not Reyes." I added, considering our history. I knew Reyes had survived, just like I had. What he is now... I looked at Mercy knowingly and she bit her lip in regret. Perhaps there were some ' _heroes_ ' that should remain dead after all...

"We could never be lucky forever. Such is the way of life..." she admitted forlornly, turning to inspect her staff once more. Out of shame or guilt, I couldn't tell you then. And I certainly couldn't tell you now.

"We'll see." I snorted, just as Rennie walked into the room. I did a short double take. The guy looked even more haggard than I did, if that was even possible. His hair was just strands of messy clumps of brown, strung together by water, a rinse or a full blown shower I could not tell. Equally clumpy was his goatee, lengths of dirty hair running down to the end of his neck. His eyes were bleary, bags formed under him and the whites barely visible, replaced as it was with a slowly encroaching red around his brown irises. His hands and legs looked almost pared down to just bones and skin, thin as he was. And to top it off, the clothes he was in was ragged as hell, torn in certain places and caked in dust and dirt in others. If you told me otherwise, I'd believe he was some unlucky soul without a home.

"Ah, Rennie. So nice to see you... I'm Dr. Ziegler. You can call me Angela if you like." Angela put on a radiant smile, even if I could tell she was just as concerned with his state of health as I was.

"Just get on with it, Mercy." Rennie grumbled, sliding up onto the examination bed with resignation. I felt my eyebrow furrow down in disbelief. Was he always this rude? If Matthew was to be believed, this was certainly a turn for the man.

"Or Mercy... That's... fine too." Angela smiled, moving to grab her equipment. I felt Rennie's eyes shift in her absence to me, watching me with curiosity. It was... unnerving to say the least.

"It's very nice to meet you in the flesh. Matthew spoke highly of you whenever he got the chance." Angela finally returned, using her hands to peel off his clothes. She kept a silent smile on her face, no doubt rubbing off the kid in the wrong way. He looked up at Angela and started to stare at her. I didn't know what he was expecting from Angela. Validation? Pity? It was only when he spoke again that I realized he was looking at her for recognition.

"This isn't the first time we've met." He casually remarked, which certainly took Angela for a loop.

"Oh, really? I don't recall." She said, clearly rubbing off Rennie in the wrong way. His body visibly tensed and I could see his fingers start to curl inward on themselves.

"Of course you wouldn't. Why would anyone care?" he mumbled. I finally spoke up, unable to take his rather insulting manner with Angela any longer.

"Hey, ease up on the doc. She's trying to keep you in fighting shape." I said, shooting a withering glare at the boy to hopefully scare him into complying. To my surprise, he ignored or just shrugged it off like it was nothing.

"Tell that to my family." He spat back. That really irked my ire and I admit, at the time, I had started to march forward to him, cracking my knuckles in rabid disgust with the whiny moron sitting there and taking our help for granted.

"You'd better show her some respect, you ungrateful little..." I remember Angela firmly placing a hand on my shoulder, steely determination in her eyes. We shared a short look, a conversation that began with questioning her lack of care at his rude behaviour. What could I say? We were good friends before.

"That's enough, 76. Please leave me to tend to my patient." She said sharply. I wanted to protest, but it died down in my throat, seeing just how determined Angela was in protecting him. Resignedly, I shuffled her hold on my shoulder quickly, giving Rennie a mean glare when given the opportunity.

"Now! If you would please..." she said with that sharp tone again. This time, I listened and left in disgust. Rennie was far from the nice little kid that Matthew made him out to be, even considering all that he has been through. But I couldn't help but recall the moments leading up to that moment and think.

What if?

It was a bright early morning back then. I remember sitting at my desk, writing mountains of paperwork to sign off on. I had the experimental jet to sign off on, with a promising young recruit to add to that list on task to fly the thing. Gerard had been hounding me for more resources, no doubt in search of his beloved wife and this crisis with the Omnics was starting to ramp up, a concern that carried most of my attention.

"Sir!" I heard someone cry out, rapt with attention. I spun around and saw Matthew for the first time. Unlike his brother, he had been kempt, dressed in our standard garb and carrying himself like a true soldier, even whilst still a relatively new member to our ranks. I had wanted to tell him that he need not carry himself as a soldier. Just look at Lena and Torbjorn for that matter, but I figured that he chose to be like this so I let it slide.

"At ease, soldier. What's happened?" I asked.

"Lacroix wanted me to inform you that his wife has just been recovered, sir." Now that took me for a loop. For weeks, Gerard had been searching high and low for Amelie, in every corner and in every one of Talon's hiding spots for her. Nothing had come up. To hear that she had been recovered was nothing short of a miracle, especially considering Talon's track record.

"From where?" I asked again, my curiosity now peaked.

"Not sure, sir. All she would say was that she was captured on her way home and that she did not break when they asked her for information on Overwatch." Matthew shrugged his shoulders, handing me the written report. I tossed it gently aside. I was more concerned with figuring out Talon's motives.

"Odd. Talon's never been known to release hostages." I said out loud, shaking my head at any potential pathways that might explain even a fraction of what had occurred. ' _Maybe Talon's playing a long con. Or distracting us so they can try something else... Either way, this doesn't fit their usual MO._ ' I considered, before shaking off my thoughts as Matthew started to speak again.

"Shall I inform Lacroix, sir? It sounds like a potential infiltrator." He said, almost reading my mind for me.

"Yes, here..." I mumbled, fumbling for a pen and paper to write on. Hurriedly, I had scribbled Angela's name and a rather informal letter with my signature on it for Matthew to use as documentation for entering the estate with the good doctor. When I was finished, I handed the scraps of paper to Matthew, who gingerly took it and stuffed it in his front pocket.

"Take this to Dr. Ziegler. Accompany her to the Lacroix estate to check up on Amelie. If need be, you will be assigned to guard duty until we can fully ascertain the nature of the threat." I told him. It seemed like a great idea at the time. If Amelie turned out to be a decoy, Matthew would have been on point to handle the situation or at least minimize the damage caused. How was I to know that Amelie would be the threat itself? Especially considering that Matthew was relatively untrained in the field or equipped to deal with civilian threats...

"Understood, sir. I've been meaning to return home. This is a perfect excuse if ever I saw one." He smiled happily, which I knew to be ulterior in nature. I've never seen anyone as excited to get an assignment for the sake of it. Well, maybe everyone except for Lena. She was far more jubilant than I gave her credit for when word came down on the pilot for the Slipstream.

"Family?" I asked out of curiosity.

"Yes, sir." He replied affirmatively. It was good to keep some semblance of normality. I had told myself that working in Overwatch was a thankless job and that anything to detract from the stress of it all was just good for everyone involved.

"Good. You're dismissed, soldier." I nodded, dismissing Matthew.

"Good day, sir." He said, leaving me to ponder on yet another situation. Had I known what I did now, a lot of things would have changed. For the better? For the worse? I didn't know. But I left that memory behind. A soldier like me shouldn't be too overly concerned with what has passed when I can still fight for our present and our immediate future.

It was about an hour or so later that I was sitting in with Winston and Lena in questioning Rennie. Angela had certainly worked her magic, shaving that mess of a beard down to something a bit more respectable and giving Rennie some new duds to wear. He seemed a little uncomfortable with the garb, tenderly scratching at the Overwatch logo emblazoned on his shoulder. If I had to guess, he was more concerned about its identity rather than whether it fit his body type.

"You took a big risk coming here, Rennie." Winston began, looking at him from across the table.

"Trust me. I'd rather be anywhere else than here." Rennie snorted, glancing around the room. Immediately, I clocked his movement. Was he playing us? Trying to plan his escape? I was paranoid, to be sure but I couldn't tell with him to be perfectly honest.

"Get to the point, kid. Why come here at all?" I asked impatiently. Rennie noted this, leaning his body forward and crossing his arms on the table in front of him.

"I was paid a visit... From our mutual enemy..." Rennie paused briefly in between, his eyes wavering as he pondered just what words to use. Instantly, Lena seemed to pick up on his hesitation and in that also managed to ascertain who exactly visited him.

"Widowmaker?" she said with a short quiver in her otherwise cheerful tone. Rennie nodded in response. 'Amelie Lacroix... After all this time...' I remembered thinking. Amelie was never one for revealing herself so easily. Or letting her targets live for that matter. As if he could read my mind, Rennie answered my burning questions almost right away.

"She offered me a deal. Info for revenge." Rennie told us. I looked at him aghast. ' _He sold us out!?_ ' Was the only thing rushing through my brain. I looked briefly at Winston and Lena standing on either side of me. I could see Winston looking rather appalled from behind his glasses, no doubt shattered in his belief in people. Lena on the other hand lost that sheen from her face. Cheerful turned to disbelief, her hands starting to curl inwards into those telltale fists of hers.

"And you took it?!" I shouted, rounding the table as I readied to jump him and check him for any bugs, any sign that he was Talon. I only needed one excuse, one reason to throw him to the wolves and let nature take its course.

"Easy, 76. Let him talk." Winston silenced me begrudgingly. I tried not to snarl, but I retook my original position bitterly. Rennie didn't seem to flinch, only noting just how badly we were misreading the situation simply through his body motion.

"I didn't affirm or deny her request. But I suspect they tracked my movements here. If I'm right, you don't have much time to scarper." He continued speaking.

"You led them to us? Why?" Lena asked, shaking her head and trying to process the info being fed to us. Winston almost seemed to nod imperceptibly at the camera hanging right above us, no doubt scrambling the troops to pack up and be ready to leave. He made the right call. In the event that Rennie was telling the truth, we had to be ready to go at a moment's notice. If he wasn't, then the problem would be simple. Swift and easy to deal with.

"It was either now or later, Lena. I figured I could give you guys a heads up before shit hit the fan." Rennie explained rather briskly. Surprisingly, it seemed to placate both Winston and Lena. A couple of lines and it seemed to melt the tension away from the room. But I knew better. I had seen better. It wasn't enough for me to lower my guard.

"And why should we trust you? Your sister was Talon." I reminded him, still unconvinced that this wasn't a trap. His eyes flared with anger at the mere mention of his sister, his left hand balling into a fist and pulling it up to his head before crashing back down on the table with a resounding thud.

"And my brother was Overwatch! So I would think that straightens things out evenly!" He screamed, neck bulging with veins as he looked at me with his reddish eyes. Winston looked at me, shocked but keeping very calm about it all. Lena winced, eyes blinking to compensate for this sudden outburst of anger from him. I heard his breath puff out and his body lax a little, before he settled back into his seat with a sullen look on his face. ' _This is who you're pinning your faith on, Lena?_ ' I looked at her, shaking my head in disappointment.

"Look, do whatever you want. I just came here to warn you." Rennie pushed away from the table, standing up and looking at us with unblinking eyes.

"Wait, Ren... You need to come with us. Talon won't be very welcoming once they figure things out." Lena offered. Rennie didn't answer, slowly shuffling towards the door and almost ignoring our presence entirely.

"And my stuff?" Rennie asked. Now that was a red flag. The fact that he wanted to go back for his stuff. To me, it screamed trap. It shouted classic army tactics to bait enemies into a false sense of security.

"I can go with him." Winston volunteered, raising his hand up like he was called up for latrine duty. A bad call all around...

"Winston..." Lena seemed to catch on that this was a bad idea as well.

"Just get everyone out of here. We'll catch up." Winston waved her off, moving to follow Rennie to his house.

"A moment, Winston..." I placed a firm hand on Winston's armor, pulling him back from following. He gave me a curious look, wondering what I wanted to talk to him about. Rennie for once got the hint and made to leave, Lena following him right behind us.

"I'll wait outside." He said, shuffling away to wherever he intended to be. I waited until he had slinked away and shut the door behind him. Then I waited a little longer just in case. Once I was satisfied he wouldn't barge in unexpectedly, I made my opinions heard again.

"You cannot seriously trust this guy. What if this is a trap?" I told him point-blank, pointing to the door Rennie had left through.

"We must put faith in other people. Hearts and minds, the way we used to work." Winston did his utmost to reassure me, even going with the usual shoulder pat that I usually did when soldiers would piss their pants in fear on the battlefield.

"And keeping Widowmaker's identity a secret?" I said. Even in my guise, most of Overwatch knew about Amelie's sob story. How she was turned in her time of captivity. How she murdered both her husband, my best friend in his sleep in cold blood. How Matthew tried to stop her and hesitated, his mistake costing him his life at her hands. We knew who Widowmaker really was, just as most knew about Reyes. But Rennie didn't. And from his words, his anger was never to the sniper. It was easy to surmise that Rennie knew not the true identity of Widowmaker or the fact that he was sitting in the same room with his brother's killer.

Winston couldn't handle that, it seems. He made for the door. I stopped him again.

"Sooner or later, he'll figure it out. And when he does, there'll be hell to pay. For all of us..." I warned him. Rage and grief will make anyone do anything. If Rennie was really on our side, information like this will turn him into a wild card. As a soldier, the last thing you want is something unexpected.

"I know." Winston sighed, leaving the room with his shoulders slumped. Harsh? Yes, it certainly was. But Overwatch needed to grow some tough skin if it wants to survive. I came back because I believe in Overwatch, in its mission statement. I want this second iteration to succeed where mine didn't. To be the protector of the people I wasn't.

And I'd be damned if I let Rennie ruin all of it. If he's one of us, then he'll be welcomed as part of the family. If he's one of them... It's a soldier's duty to protect his comrades, to do the hard thing. I'll make the hard decision. So no-one else has to...


	5. Intermittent Rain Of Justice

**CHAPTER 5: INTERMITTENT RAIN OF JUSTICE**

 **Hi everyone. Welcome back to chapter 5 of this crazy little tale. As the title implies, this chapter will deal in Pharah's POV, her relationship with Jane and her own mother as well as her initial dealings with Rennie. Hope you guys have fun and enjoy the rest of the year!**

I strain to write this, considering… ahhh… present circumstances, but I figured that it would be best to explain, should ever we need a record against the injustices of Talon. Perhaps I value justice highly above all. My mother was Overwatch to the bone after all, considering her place among the ' _legends_ '. It's why I looked up to her once, why I joined Overwatch to begin with.

Who would believe that I would now spend my days as a fugitive? That I would be the hunted, rather than the hunter? Do not get me wrong. Winston is an admirable leader and I'm impressed at the cadre of former members he was able to wrangle back into active duty. So why then do I feel that it's not enough?

When Winston had left to help Rennie, the brother to a former comrade of ours and to an operative of Talon with his belongings, I volunteered to escort the two of them to the location. It was relatively uneventful, even considering the threat of Talon that was about to hit us. Rennie simply shuffled behind Winston in a fugue state, barely cognizant except when we had to make sharp turns or when Winston would briefly forget which direction to head in. I had taken the rear, my concern falling more in line with whether Rennie would be a liability to both me and Winston. Huh, does that make me uncaring?

"I'll take watch, Winston." I said, arriving at a plain looking house on a street near the Old Narrows. From the outside, it looked plain and equally similar to the houses right next to it. Rennie shuffled towards the door and fished out a set of keys, unlocking the door and throwing it open with no care in the world. He had given up almost entirely, that much was plain to see.

"This won't take long. And thank you, Pharah." Winston said, pushing up his glasses as he said so, a thin smile forming under them.

"Don't mention it." I said, watching Winston leave and head inside with Rennie, who was still looking as mopey as ever.

As I sat outside waiting for the two of them to complete their task, it gave my mind time to wander, back to a time long before all of this came to pass. Simpler times, as they always say…

Matthew was not the first of his family that I met. I remember when I was a young girl being in this very town myself, my mother having taken me just to get me out of the house and I suppose, to quell my insistence on joining her on her secret missions. I had been taking my walk past the town fountain, minding my own business and going about the town when I heard someone scream from nearby. Instinct did the rest and dragged me along for the ride.

"Stop it, please! Leave me alone!" A young girl was the victim, surrounded by several scrawny looking boys and one big little brute in the center of the circle, all of them laughing at her attempts to buy time or even save herself.

"You think you can hide behind your brother all the time? He isn't here anymore. Now hand over your toys!" This big brutish looking boy stood with his gang, cracking his knuckles as he attempted to intimidate the girl.

"Hey, stop bullying her!" I said angrily, confronting the bully and his little gang of yes-men with fire in my eyes. What can I say? I was interested in justice from a young age…

"Oh, yeah? What you gonna do? Cry for mommy?" The bully made a crying gesture, trying to rile me up. His friends just laughed, mocking me in turn. Calmly, I made to follow his motion, only to swiftly let out a quick punch towards his stomach, causing him to lurch backwards and for the laughter to die down very quickly. All eyes turned to me instantly and the bully just looked at me with red, watery eyes, hands clutching his stomach as he sharply winced in pain.

"Agghh... You little..." He made to pull back for his knockout blow, but I beat him to the punch, sending a quick shot down to his groin, silencing the abrasive idiot quickly.

"Uggghh..." He yelped, hands grasping his bruised family jewels as he toppled backwards onto the pavement, groaning as he writhed on the ground in extreme pain. Now I really had everyone's attention. The scrawny kids just looked at me fearfully, bodies shaking as they weighed their options. I just made it easier for them, swiftly making a ghost face in their direction.

"Boo." At that, every one of the bully's yes-men ran with their tails between their legs, running for the hills like their lives depended on it. I watched with a satisfied smile, extending one hand to the girl as I turned to check up on her.

"Thank you. I don't know why they like doing that." The young girl grasped my extended wrist, pulling herself up off the floor and dusting off her clothes with a hint of disgust levelled at the boy still whimpering on the ground.

"Boys will be boys." I shrugged my shoulders. She laughed at my explanation, her hair swiftly moving back and forth as she doubled over in laughter. I meekly laughed along, wondering why she thought it was incredibly funny. Could be the bully now slinking away, angrily cursing as he clutched his sore jewels and hobbling to stop the pain from shooting up his legs painfully.

"I'm Jane. Nice to meet you." She finally introduced herself, shaking my hand vigorously with a smile across her lips.

"Fareeha. Nice to meet you too, Jane." I answered back, walking beside her as we left the fountain to take a short walk down the nearby street, flitting between the crowd gathering to hit the market stalls in the main town square.

"You live around here?" She pointed to a nearby neighbourhood, which I assumed to be where she herself stayed.

"No, Mama is on a super secret mission for work. She wanted me to go out and see other people." I placed a finger to my lips and made a shushing sound, just to sell just how ' _secret_ ' this mission was.

"Really? What's with parents? They restrict you from doing anything fun." Jane joked with a low groan emanating from her throat.

"My mama's not so bad." I answered. Back then, I still thought highly about my mother. Not the estranged relationship we often had before she… left.

"Want to play hopscotch?" she suggested. I didn't see anything wrong with having fun with my new friend. Plus, I was a kid. What kid wouldn't want to play hopscotch at least once in their life?

"Yes!" I had exclaimed happily, gladly following along with Jane. I remember spending the rest of the day with Jane, having fun together and even getting into a simple arts-and-crafts workshop near her house. I had made a little wooden band, inscribed roughly on the outside with a phrase my mother often used. It seemed only fitting to give it to Jane, even if I wouldn't meet her again for a long time. We had made promises, as kids would to meet again soon. It just never happened…

As I played through my memories, Winston had been steadily lugging items into a box we had brought along to carry his things, the box barely halfway full by the time Winston finally brought out the last items and tossed them haphazardly into the pile resting at the bottom.

"Is that everything?" I asked, still keeping my eye on my surroundings, in case Talon tries to do anything funny. My hands were curled around my weapon of choice, a six-barrel rocket launcher that would be hell to carry if it weren't for the armour taking most of the weight off my hands.

"Only the bare essentials. Rennie's... not taking it so well." Winston thumbed towards the ajar door. Curious, I nodded and went inside myself, pinching my nose when the stench of alcohol started wafting in the air. That didn't let up until I entered his room, with him standing ramrod stiff in the middle of the room, eyes staring down a poster draped on the wall. A poster depicting the old founding members of Overwatch, my mother included.

"Rennie?" I had spoken up. Rennie did not acknowledge my presence, standing stiff and seemingly lifeless. Suddenly I heard him growl under his breath and his hand flung forward to the poster. His nails bit into the paper and clawed down, tearing the poster into pieces as he furiously scratched at it, trying to remove all trace of its existence from sight. By the time he was done, he was panting in ragged breathes, torn shreds of paper stuck in his nails and clasped in his balled up fists.

"We need to go." I spoke plainly, watching him slink down to the ground next to his bed in despair.

"Yeah... Yeah, just give me a minute." Rennie said half-heartedly, head buried in his hands as he gently sobbed, his cries echoing softly against the paper thin walls surrounding us.

"As much as I would want to, we can't. We really need to go, before Talon bears down on us." I crossed my arms, looking at him with a hint of annoyance. As much as I knew letting him grieve was the best, we weren't exactly in a situation to allow for it.

"I can't just leave them..." Rennie continued to weep openly, his wails still soft and muffled by his arms.

"Hey, listen. I know you miss them. Most of us can understand what you're going through."

"Did you lose someone...? T-t-to Talon, I mean?" He stuttered in between sobs, his head turning up to look at me when I started speaking. That instantly made me uncomfortable. I'd avoided the subject of my mother so often that it still made me cringe to bring it up. I squashed that feeling that day. It could help him, maybe see that there are people out there that share some common ground. Who knows? Maybe I could come to my reconciliation with the memories I still had of her.

"My mother... A few years ago..." I let out a wistful sigh, taking a seat next to Rennie on the carpet by his bed, crossing my legs as I did so.

"What was she like?" he asked, his sobs now replaced with a weak sense of curiosity.

"Stern... but fair in her own... special way. She always had that motherly streak with everyone. It's why I joined Overwatch in the first place."

"How... How do you move on? Just let go... forget everything that happened? I don't know if I can do that." Rennie seemed almost incapable of stringing something coherent through his tears, hands still clutched around the torn poster as he looked at me with red eyes, tears streaming like a small stream down his face, staining the carpet beneath him.

"You don't forget, Rennie. You keep their memory close at heart and carry it with you. I'd like to think that our family wants us to... live our lives to the fullest, even when they're gone." I tapped my chest three times, symbolizing our beating heart to him. He seemed to ponder the point for a good amount of time, finally sighing as he considered trying to follow that line of thinking.

"Sounds... hard." He said. ' _You have no idea, kid…_ ' I remembered thinking when he said it, looking at him like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"If it were easy... Well, let's just say things would be a lot better." I finally settled on just making light of the matter. It seemed to pay off, considering Rennie chuckled lowly at the notion. I saw him let out a sigh as he started to rise to his feet, tossing that pile of torn paper away into a trash-can in the room before making for the door.

"Thanks, Pharah." He said, walking out to face the new day, only taking one last introspective glance towards the room before he walked away. I remained there briefly, pondering my own lost opportunities. Not for too long though, considering I had come in here to expressly get Rennie out of his abode and his mental prison.

"Don't mention it." I said in a whisper to myself, following Rennie's footsteps till I was back outside with Winston and Rennie, hoping that time away from this hall of bad memories might bring some colour back to Rennie's life.

I suppose before I explain what happened next, there might be some questions as to my motivation. Why continue to risk your life for Overwatch? Why continue to hold onto the so-called dying institution? The answer's pretty simple. Because I believe in it. And because I refuse to let the one thing my mother fought to build from nothing crumble into ruin. But we didn't always agree on everything.

"Mom, why not?! I qualified on all the tests!" I shouted, angrily pointing a finger at my mother Ana. Like always, we were having a row. I wanted to chalk it up to a classic teenage angst phase. Then again, how many teenagers wanted to willingly go into the thick of danger and risk their lives on a daily basis?

"Absolutely not! I will not have you throwing yourself into danger!" She shouted back, the streak of white hair in her face flying back like her very anger was tossing it aside like a malevolent aura. She taught me too well though, for I stood my ground against her.

"It's my life, Mom! I can do whatever I want!" I argued for my free-will, slamming my fist on the kitchen table, several pieces of cutlery clattering as they were tossed up briefly before clattering back down on the wooden table.

"I do not want the life of an agent for you, Fareeha! Think of the risks you'd be putting yourself through!" She attempted to plead to me. It was true, after all. Overwatch wasn't something to take lightly. People died. Sons, daughters, mothers, fathers… With time, I could see why she wanted something else for me. It was dangerous. Wouldn't you do anything to protect your family from harm, even the ones they inflict upon themselves?

"You're Overwatch and you take risks!" I shot back at her seeming contradiction, at least to me. If she had the right to take risks, so did I!

"To protect you! And to keep bad people away from innocent people!" Mother said, gripping the table, veins starting to pop around her fingers as they curled inwards around the wood.

"And I can't do that?!" I fired back resoundingly. She looked at me desperately, unable to stomach my conviction.

"Just... no! I will not hear any more of this!" My mother shut it down forcefully, the last bellow a desperate plea for conformity. Bitterly, I knew to pick my fights and the ones I knew would guilt Mother into letting me go.

"Yes, Ana..." I said, angrily walking to my room to cool off. It wasn't the last time I saw my mother, but it sure felt like the last time I ever treated as my mother. In the weeks following, I treated her more like a stranger, someone attempting to insinuate her will into every part of my life. It took her dying for me to forgive her. One of the few things I wish I had never let go so far…

I knew something was wrong the moment I left the house and closed the door behind us. Winston and Rennie seemed very defensive, their stances were all off. As my head spun to meet whatever they were looking at, I realized why. Talon had us almost dead to rights, their goons surrounding us with rifles all trained on us. It was only when Winston made the first move that the bullets started flying.

"Get down!" he screamed as a hail of bullets pinged harmlessly against his armour plating, while he pulled out his tesla cannon and unleashed a thick stream of blue electricity, the pulse arcing back and forth between soldier after soldier, jabbering masses of human twitching as they crumpled to the ground, faintly smelling of cooked or singed flesh. I quickly yanked Rennie from the line of fire and got us both into cover behind some thick flowerpots. Sadly, I was not quick enough to prevent one stray bullet from striking Rennie's right leg, a spurt of blood splashing onto the street.

"Arrggh! Sweet mother of...!" he cursed aloud, leaning against the pot. I stood my ground, sending rocket after rocket into the incoming squads. Predictably, they scattered from the impact zone. It was what I wanted, after all.

"Incoming!" I heard Winston yell, before a shot rang out in the distance. It was distinctly a sniper rifle and I knew better than to just stay still. So I shifted my head and felt dread rise in my body as the shot ricocheted just around where my head used to be.

"I'll clear a path! Get him out of here!" Winston yelled, tossing a soldier he had in his bare hands aside, hearing him smack comically against another advancing soldier.

"What about you?!" I screamed out, reloading my launcher as fast as I could. My mother often believed in the phrase, ' _No man left behind._ ' What Winston was proposing was madness.

"Do not worry about me! Just go!" he screamed, sending another wave of Talon foot soldiers screaming as he swiped from left to right. All around them, civilians ran for the hill from the chaos, hiding in their houses or just running to the local police. Cursing, I realized that I had to make a choice. Help Winston and risk Rennie's safety or get Rennie somewhere safe then come back for Winston. It's not hard to figure out which one I ended up picking.

"Can you move?" I said, putting his hand around my shoulder as he hobbled forward as fast as he could bring himself to. We raced away from the conflict, dashing down into a little alley after walking for about 5 minutes. It was relatively empty in that place, just a couple of dumpsters and some electrical wiring from the buildings sandwiching us from both sides.

"A little… But I don't think I can keep up…" Rennie's facial features scrunched up in pain with every two steps we took, a thin trail of red following behind us. ' _We're leading them right to us. This won't work… We need…_ ' My mind went as my eyes started to fly up to the rooftops. ' _Of course! Jump jets, silly!_ ' I told myself.

"With luck, you don't have to…" I said aloud this time, throwing my shoulder blades to my left and right, the wings on the back of my suit unfurling like a charm. ' _Good thing I still have someone to keep this well-maintained…_ ' I thanked the gods for my routine checkups.

"Yes, those rooftops will keep us away from the main force. It won't do any good if Widowmaker is up there, so we need to…" I continued to speak, my visor craning to find some trajectory to take us to. Rennie spoke up, barely above a whisper behind me as I was searching, drawing my attention away.

"I'm sorry…" His voice echoed, a quiver of regret laced in that tone. It concerned me greatly.

"Huh? What are… argghh!" As I turned to look at him, I saw his hands shift in a fast blur, the dull thud of wood slamming into my armoured helmet. I felt my vision blur as I fell sideways in the alley, the impact nearly making me collide with the dumpster right next to me. Down but not completely out. I heard the clatter of wood tumble to the ground, which I surmised to be him dropping the plank of wood he had hit me with. I felt my lips let out a soft moan, trying to fight back the sense of unconsciousness that was passing over my body.

As I was struggling to understand why or to vent anger at this seeming betrayal, I felt something shift my body. Hands. It was awkward and invasive to feel them, but I heard Rennie grunt as he tried to lift me up from the ground. My vision was blurry, black bars starting to encroach on my vision as I watched a blurry form hoist me up to the level of the dumpster, resting most of my body on the edge of it.

"It's better that at least one of us makes it out of here." I heard him say. ' _What? Wait… did he try to knock me out because…?_ ' I considered, only to be interrupted when I felt his support fall away and my body tumble down. It landed with a dull thud on the rather dry dumpster floor, the only things denoting its purpose several stray scraps of dirty paper that brushed against my blue armour as I groaned groggily from the impact.

"I really wish I'd thought this through… but…" Rennie's voice started to falter along with the rest of my senses and the world went black. It was far from a peaceful slumber, nor some horrifying nightmare. If I had to describe the two hours I spent in that dumpster? Emptiness. Nothing but the beat of my heart to let me know that I was amidst the land of the living.

"Pharah…?" I heard someone's voice call out, someone gruff. ' _Was it Winston? Reinhardt?_ ' I started going through the list in my head as I laid there surrounded by leftover garbage.

"PHARAH!" The voice shouted again. My eyes threw themselves open, startled to see the familiar face of Winston staring down at me. Before I could even say another word, I felt his large hands lift me up from the dumpster I had been unceremoniously dumped in and set me down gently on the ground next to it.

"Wha….?" I said in a stupor, shaking my head back and forth to shake off the feeling still rushing through my head.

"Where is Rennie?" Winston asked me, looking high and low with his bespectacled brown eyes. He must have been searching for him when he found me. Or assumed that he was close by to my location…

"He… He knocked me out…" I winced, rubbing the slight bump on my head, barely noticeable thanks to a tuft of hair covering up the swelling.

"And put you in a dumpster?" Winston seemed confused by his actions, moving to check on my wound just as I expected he would. I gently pressed my hand against his armoured plate, pushing him aside and affirming with a nod that I was in good condition.

"He said…. Better one of us makes it out of here." I replied. Instantly, recognition dawned on Winston, just as it did for me earlier. It was easy to conclude who had him now.

"Talon, then." Winston noted, his face visibly sighing as he stumbled back towards our agreed upon rally point, grunting as he shrugged off the damage he had sustained trying to fight us off. I made to follow, only to pause in my tracks as I spied something familiar. There, sitting in the middle of the alley was Jane's little wooden band, the same one I had given her when I had left her company so many years ago. It must have fallen out of Rennie's pocket when he was taken. I bent down to pick it up, heartened at the sight of that phrase after so long.

' _Bravery is not in action. It is in heart._ ' That was what really crystallized what I had started to suspect was missing in that part of me. All this time, I had sought justice against those that harmed deliberately, those that hurt people in brutish ways, in manners very easily spotted from a mile away. I realized that there were hidden dangers beyond Talon, beyond the gangs. It was the mundane. The people caught in between that needed our brand of justice. Judgement for those we've hurt, for those caught in our wake.

We after all must answer to the consequences of what we do on a daily basis, just as much as we expect others to fall to our judgement. It's still here, still reminding me that I have a lot to do, a lot to finally earn justice for this family we've dragged into our war.

Pharah out…

 **Hope this chapter pans out. This might not get an update in a while considering I need to deal with other things. Hopefully it turns out okay. Until then, stay safe and have a good day!**


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